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Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Confederacy

I was a teacher-mentor, meaning that I was supposed to teach teachers how to teach.

I was twenty-nine. New to Maryland. And the kicker? I was assigned a school where the average teacher had been at the school for at least fifteen years.

People ducked under their desks when they saw me coming.

When I met with my director, she asked me to come up with some professional goals. I slid a piece of paper across the table, on which I had typed, "Grow thicker skin."

We both laughed. She took her reading glasses off, and tapped them on the table. "It's a good goal, though. You need to learn that being liked isn't important. Nobody likes me." Then, she winked. "Welcome to the Confederacy."

It was technically The South, so people said things like that.

Her words followed me, as I made my power-points about differentiated instruction, and set up spreadsheets for staff meetings. I watched the students, engaged in learning, gossiping in the hallways, and lingering by classroom doors, and felt a separateness I had never experienced in a school setting.

I cried in my office, and ate my dried turkey sandwich at my desk.

I watched a co-worker teach a lesson, and her energy pulsed through the room. The students forgot to be bored, dropped the swagger, and smiled.

I cried in my office again, and imagined that in another life, I would be friends with that teacher.

One afternoon, as I was graphing data from the most recent assessment, I cried. I felt the failure, coating me from head to toe. My skin was still thin, and now I could hardly see it anymore.

I told my principal, "I cannot do this job anymore. Can you get me a job in the classroom?"

The following year, I was teaching sixth grade. With thin skin, and at last, a smile. I had rejected The Confederacy.

26 comments:

That is a tough position to be in especially for the vast majority of us who desire positive personal interaction with our coworkers. I'm glad your boss was willing to see that you needed to be in a position that was more fulfilling for you.

It would be hard to do that job, with thin skin. I always hated it when I had to do peer evaluations. I also didn't like being evaluated by my peers, I became unnatural in the classroom. I did adult training for many years.

I didn't enjoy reading about your tears and struggles, but I did enjoy reading your words (if that makes sense!). This was so well written... it flowed well and I felt like I was standing in your shoes. It squeezed my heart a bit!

I love the fact that you resolved you issue in a way other than developing a thicker skin. I was recently bemoaning my own thin skin when a friend said something like, "If you weren't thinned skinned, you probably wouldn't be the sensitive person we love so much." Sometimes our foibles are our strengths.

Being an administrator isn't at all what it's cracked up to be. And who did your boss think you could teach if you couldn't connect with the people who had tons of experience but didn't want to learn from you. I'm glad you found a connection and satisfaction in the class instead!

what a fantastic opening line, you always grab me right from the beginning. Plus I felt all these emotions with you...

sometimes it's the rough stuff that teaches you the most about who you are..and I think the students you stand in front of..like the ones who stand in front of you from behind their computer screens (LIKE ME) are the lucky ones....because I love you..thin skin and all. xo

You really capture that gut wrenching feeling of being in the wrong job, made that much harder by seeing other people doing something that brings them joy. Great piece, and I'm glad you made the change.

Thanks for your comment. Glad you enjoyed the piece. I always knew I'd have to eventually write about the guy at the basketball game. He was too perfect not to put on paper.

I was totally engrossed in this, I was right there with you wanting to rip that sweater off. Office pariah is not a fun title. Glad you were able to change...seems like the experience was a useful lesson (ha-education pun!).

I used to take on and keep jobs because I felt I was supposed to do them to be stronger, develop thicker skin, etc. When really, it's so much more important to be happy in what you're doing. Lovely post.